My husband and I have a favorite restaurant in London that absolutely no one knows about. Except the locals and regulars we see when we are there. But our ‘set’, so to speak, has never heard of it. We ferry … Continue reading …

I am stuck in the dreary February doldrums. In London, everyday it rains. Sometimes in great smacking sheets, sometimes in impertinent little drops, but all the times our cup runneth so over that the sight of it is making my … Continue reading …

When my husband suggested that we go on a honeymoon in Sicily, I was skeptical. The he turned to me and said, “They eat nothing but olive oil, swordfish, and almond granita.” I booked the tickets myself. We started in … Continue reading …

I got home late last night, craving something healthy, hearty, and full of Americana. I brought one of those little tin tubs of Old Bay back on my last flight, thinking I might conjure up some homemade fish sticks or … Continue reading …

Every time Mr. English and I are in Paris, we never miss an opportunity to eat at Le Comptoir, our favorite restaurant, just down the street from where we used to live when I was in cooking school. It’s become … Continue reading …

Salmon is my sit-down-and-be-good food. The I-ate-too-many-latkes antidote. And I’ve been doing a zillion variations on this theme this winter: a slab of salmon slow-roasted with olive oil on a bed of herbs. Traditionally, I do a simple pairing of … Continue reading …

Mr. English and I just got back from a trip to France to visit our wedding caterer. The day of our tasting may have been the best day of my life. I’m not sure the actual wedding can beat sitting … Continue reading …